Harry Potter and the Wandmaker's Journey
by Jarlzax
Summary: HIATUS!Harry Potter is on a journey. This journey will take him through ancient tomes, new places, good times, bad times, every time in between. And this Journey all began with a house elf named Dobby... AU from Summer of CoS onward.
1. Chapter 1

A/N This is my fourth story, although all the others have been oneshots. Please tell me what you thought of it. Like it, Hate it, Tell me its a sick twisted story and I should be flogged for writing it, anything at all! Reviews are fuel for the writers tank, making him/her want to keep going, and able to run down the walls that are writers block! Also, as long as nothing drastically changes this story, my mind, and my writing style, there will be no romance in this story. No het, and most _**DEFINITELY**_ no slash. I've got nothing against Homosexuality, I just don't want to write about it or any other pairing at this time. I'm going to try to get one at least 4000 word chapter out a week. As 4000 words a chapter is the minimum I like to read, I'ma try to stick to that. But _**Enough Blathering! On with the story!**_

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, You'd probably still be waiting for Goblet of Fire. Also, you wouldn't be reading this, as I'd be too busy writing Goblet of Fire to be writing fanfiction. JK Rowling owns Harry Potter along with Publications including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Harry got off of the Hogwarts Express, said his goodbyes to Ron and Hermione, and walked slowly over to Uncle Vernon. His uncle had come alone, leaving Aunt Petunia and Dudley at home. Harry heaved his trunk into the boot, and clambered into the car. The long drive home was very quiet, Uncle Vernon not doing any of the complaining that was his usual habit while driving. They finally arrived at Number 4, and Uncle Vernon informed him that a client would be coming over in 3 weeks to discuss buying a huge shipment of Drills. "You are to stay quiet, and pretend that you don't exist!" Uncle Vernon always felt the need to roar in his face, spattering him with spittle.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry muttered softly. _Its not like I'd want anyone to know that I'm related to __**this**__ tub-o-lard anyway. _For the next three weeks the Dursleys drilled him on staying silent. They would have Dudley pretend to be the guest, and Harry would sit in his room, doing nothing at all. Finally the day arrived. He was given an actually decent meal, as they didn't want anything to distract him from his silence, not even hunger.

"Quickly now, boy, get upstairs!" Aunt Petunia snapped at him. He hated her voice. It was like a torture device, shrill and loud, always painful to his ears.

He walked slowly up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him, and flopped down on the bed. About five minutes later, bored with listening to the Dursleys talking with their guests, Harry began picking up some of the broken toys that littered his room and shoved them in the closet. As he put the last of the toys away, there was a loud crack, and a creature with large bat like ears, tennis ball sized eyes, and a funny nose appeared in his room.

Harry fell off his bed, got up quickly and asked, "Who are you!"

"I is Dobby, the house-elf, sir! I am being very happy to meet you, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby spoke in an, excited, squeaky voice. Harry offered him a seat, but that set the little elf into a tantrum of happiness. Harry quickly calmed the elf, and luckily the Dursleys hadn't noticed.

"What are you doing here, Dobby?" Harry asked urgently. He wanted this elf to tell him what he wanted and just leave, before the Dursleys came up here and saw the tiny creature.

"I is bringing a message for Harry Potter, Sir! You must not go back to Hogwarts!" Dobby was squeaking much too loudly, but luckily the downstairs was roaring with laughter at the joke his Uncle had just told.

"Why not Dobby? If you can give me one good reason, I won't return, on my honor as a wizard." Harry had just been trying to shut Dobby up, but he had just done something very stupid. Now that Dobby had an opportunity to get him to stay away from Hogwarts, he would do anything to capitalize on that opportunity, even if it meant he had to oven his crotch.

"My bad masters is putting bad Dark Magics in the school to open the Chamber of Secrets to kill yous and other good wizards, Harry Potter sir!" What with the way the magics that tied his loyalty to the Malfoy family was he might actually have to oven his kibbles and bits. The magic was demanding that he do something terrible to himself. You see, in ages past, house elves were all free beings. Because they loved to work, they could bind themselves to an _individual _who they liked, and would serve them until that individual died. No tying themselves to a family, no way! In return for their service, they were treated well, fed, and given a place to live. If the wizard an elf was bonded to failed to live up to these terms, the elf could terminate the bond.

Many centuries ago, the wizards managed to pervert these bonds, tying them to a family and treating them as slaves. Dobby was the only elf of his generation to know of this tragedy. All of the other elves were convinced that this was the way that it had always been, and were perfectly content to serve as slaves to wizard-kind for as long as they lived, (which wasn't long due to their treatment). Before elves were enslaved, they would consistently outlive their masters, often serving as many as 3 masters in their lifetimes.

While Dobby reflected on the much changed treatment of elves, Harry Potter stood, mouth agape, wondering what had possessed him to make such a silly vow. He wouldn't be able to return to Hogwarts now! What would he do? He had sworn to the diminutive creature that if he could provide a good reason, he wouldn't return, and an evil dark artifact trying to kill him was one hell of a reason. What would he do now! He couldn't return to Hogwarts, but he needed a magical education!

"Harry Potter, sir! Is you now being ready to swear that you wont attend Hogwarts?" Dobby was extremely hopeful that the great wizard in front of him would keep his word, where so many other wizards had failed to do so. Harry cursed to himself trying to find a way out of keeping his word to the elf, but could find none.

Still cursing his stupidity, Harry gave his answer. "If I could get out of it I would, but I can't. So, yeah, I guess that I won't go back to Hogwarts. Its not like anyone wants me there, anyway." Harry was still angry with his two so-called _best friends._ He hadn't received a single letter from either of them all summer. Dobby saw this, but resolved not to let Harry know he had tons of letters from Harry's friends. It would make not returning to Hogwarts easier for the great wizard, Dobby had decided.

Harry needed an education though. "Dobby, do you know where I can get wizard schooling other than Hogwarts?" Dobby hung his head.

"Only Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, Harry Potter, sir. But to attend Beauxbatons you need to be able to speak French, and Durmstrang teaches bad Dark Arts." Harry was thoughtful; maybe he should learn the Dark Arts to defeat Voldemort. However, seeing how vigorously Dobby seemed to disapprove of the Dark Arts, he would probably try to stop Harry from going there, too.

"I is being sorry, Harry Potter, sir, but Dobby must be getting home and punishing himself for revealing Master's secrets." Indeed there were warning tingles from the magic. If he didn't do something soon, the magic would kill him. House elves vows of loyalty were taken very seriously by magic, and it had taken all of Dobby's considerable will to break his Master's trust and not beat himself right then and there. Dobby left with a small pop.

Harry flopped back on his bed, thinking hard. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang couldn't be all of the Wizarding Schools in the world, could they? Were would Americans, Asians, Africans, Mexicans, and many others go? He would have to find some way to get to Diagon Alley and get a book on Wizarding Schools. It was getting late and by the sound of it, Uncle Vernon had closed the deal. His voice sounded gleeful, and he was thanking the other man profusely. There was the sound of the front door opening and the crunch of gravel as Uncle Vernon's client. There were a few seconds of blissful silence before his uncle started whooping.

"We're finally going to have that house in Majorca, Petunia! I'll get a huge bonus, even a promotion for this!" Uncle Vernon was truly jubilant. His footsteps pounded up the stairs and he swung open the door to Harry's room. He grabbed Harry up in a hug and swung him around the room. "You were brilliant, boy!" Harry was so startled by this uncharacteristic display of affection that he didn't even struggle. He was thrown back on the bed and Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley all celebrated downstairs.

He just lay there for a while, before realizing the strange smell on his Uncle's breath must have been alcohol. No wonder he was hugging Harry. Harry was happy that his uncle was a happy drunk, not an angry one. If, when drunk, his Uncle would actually _hug_ him, he shuddered to think what would happen if he were angry when drunk. Probably do something outrageous, like put bars on his windows and bolt his door shut, feeding him through a cat-flap. Harry laughed at the absurdity of that idea, and fell asleep happy, despite the loud partying going on in the kitchen below him.

Harry was awoken by Dursleys the next morning. They told him they were flying to Majorca to see if a house they had seen in a magazine was as nice as it looked, and taking a well-deserved vacation. He would be staying with Mrs. Figg for 2 weeks. Harry packed all of his clothes in his trunk and walked across the neighborhood to Mrs. Figg's house. He knocked on the door, and was welcomed in by the old Mrs. Figg. "Thank you for taking me for 2 weeks, Mrs. Figg," Harry mumbled.

"Your welcome, dear boy! If you'd just follow-" she was cut off as the flames in her fireplace turned emerald green and Albus Dumbledore stepped out of them. His eyes were twinkling brightly.

"Ah, Arabella, I was just coming for your report on young Mr. Potter--" Dumbledore was cut off as Harry stepped out from behind Mrs. Figg.

"What reports? Mrs. Figg has been spying on me? You _knew_ the Dursleys had kept me in a _cupboard_ for 10 years, but you did nothing!?" Harry was seething with righteous anger, and Dumbledore paled significantly. It was not every day that a particularly angry eleven-year-old boy would accost him like this. In fact, almost no one spoke to him this way? _Who does this whelp think he is! He may have defeated Voldemort by deflecting a curse, but I out dueled Grindlewald! _

"Don't speak to Albus Dumbledore like that, young man! He always makes choices for the greater good, so if he left you in that cupboard it was for a reason!" Harry sputtered indignantly at this.

"That's easy for you to say, you didn't have to live in a cupboard! All these years you've been magical, and when I was stuck at your place during anything fun the Dursleys would do, and you never mentioned that! What's wrong with you?" Harry was screaming, now. He was so angry. He just wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else…

His magic responded to that desperate wish and apparated him to right outside the front entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. He gasped for air, that wasn't pleasant at all. It felt like be squeezed through a tiny tube. He imagined that that must be the way a turd felt as it was squeezed out. The thought did nothing to help his already unsettled stomach. He walked around the pub, not really wanting to be gawked at by everyone.

He pulled his wand out of his trunk, and tapped the bricks the way he had seen Hagrid do last year. The first thing he did was go to Gringotts. Depositing his trunk in his vault so that he wouldn't have to carry it, he decided to ask if they had bottomless moneybags or something. The goblin that had brought him down to his vault looked at him like he was crazy. "No, we do _not_ have enchanted moneybags. If you want to carry that much money around with you, bring a bigger sack!" Harry grumbled to himself as he filled two small moneybags with galleons, one with sickles, and a final one with knuts. He also got 200 pounds for lunch. Magical cooking didn't have anything on good old muggle fish and chips. Also, jeans and a t-shirt were much more comfortable than robes.

Harry went to a trunk store, Everett's Quality Trunks. Harry walked inside and was greeted by a young clerk. "Do you have a trunk with featherweight charms and the ability to shrink?" Harry asked the young man.

"We sure do, and it's a real bargain at only 200 galleons! That's high quality ebony, good finish, and also fireproof and with wear resistance as well! We also have a bottomless one, charmed so everything is within reach, and cushioned so nothing will break, but that's 250 galleons" Harry made a decision and bought the bottomless one. (Just so you know, 1 galleon is 5 pounds, which is about 10 US dollars, so the price is about 2500)

Harry had just spent about half of one of his galleon bags on one trunk, but he thought it would be worth it. Harry next went to Flourish and Blotts. He only brought one book, titled Magical Schools of the World By Archibald Archavius. He figured that once he knew what school he was going to, he could buy the books required for school then. Also, he figured he should master the magic that he would be taught before he did any individual study. He now needed a place to stay. He couldn't go back to the Leaky Cauldron it was far too obvious. The muggle world was out, as no hotel would let him stay there unsupervised.

Harry wandered around the Alley before stopping outside Ollivanders. He walked in and seeing that there were no customers there, called out, "Mr. Ollivander? Are you there?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I am here." The quiet voice resonated from behind Harry. He whirled around.

"Good lord! You startled me there, sir." Harry gasped out, heart pounding in his chest. Mr. Ollivander frowned suddenly.

"I can't remember what wand I sold you! This is terrible!" Harry shrugged. He didn't see what the big deal was.

"Mr. Potter, I remember every single want I've ever sold. Every one dating back to before Albus Dumbledore was in here, purchasing his first wand!"  
Harry scoffed, "Even wizards don't live that long!"

"Foolish child! Look at Dumbledore! 150 and still bouncing around! Magic extends the natural lifespan of those around it! The more you are around it, the longer you live. I craft the very devices that channel a wizard's magic. Of course I live longer than most. But that is not important now! Let me see your wand." Harry reluctantly pulled out his wand and Ollivander let out a hiss. He pulled his own wand out and cast a spell on Harry. Immediately, the wand shot out of his hand and struck the wall, snapping.

"That wand was not meant for you! Your very magical core was tampered with, fooling that wand into choosing you!" Ollivander was more worked up than Harry would have expected.

"What's the big deal? We caught it didn't we?" Harry asked, feeling foolish as Ollivander stared at him incredulously.

"The big deal? The big— Dear lord boy, are you an idiot? I craft these wands by hand! Every wand I craft has been worked on and tested extensively! I take pride in every single wand I make from the shortest ash wand to the longest oak, from the phoenix-feather cored, to the dragon heartstring! Every wand is made from a branch; taken willingly from a magical tree, bark peeled carefully, whittled down, then sanded! Every core is taken only from the finest specimen, matched perfectly with what wood they best suit! There is a lot of work to my craft, and few satisfactions. One of the only satisfactions is seeing a wand perfectly matched to an individual, singing with magic as the person they are meant for holds them. And now I find that one of my wands has been cruelly forced to endure magic with an incompatible core…" By the last point in his speech, his voice had grown fainter, but more enthralling.

His voice grew suddenly stronger. "They are my life's work, and that was one of my finest specimens. I find it has bee fooled into serving you, who is nothing like it's true owner! And you my dear lad should be just as angry as me! Your core was changed on a fundamental level. You may never recover!" Harry stood there, mouth wide open as the full implications of what had happened hit him.

"So there's nothing we can do?" Harry asked glumly.

"Of Course there's something we can do, foolish boy! You use as much magic as you possibly can, sending yourself into the depths of Magical Exhaustion, and hope as your magic regains its natural form as it regenerates. Then, we custom make you a new wand that actually suits you."

"How am I supposed to do magic without a wand?" Harry asked, curious. Ollivander looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I shall teach you to use wandless magic." Ollivander said finally. "You mustn't expect that it will be the same as wand magic though. Wandless magic can't cast any of the spells you know, as they were crafted to be channeled through a wand. You can use wandless magic to imitate the effects of spells, but wand spells can't be cast wandlessly."

It took Harry a moment to digest what Ollivander had just said. He would be learning wandless magic! He had entered the shop hoping for some advice on where to stay, and uncovered a whole conspiracy theory involving violating his magical core, wands not meant for him, and an angry Ollivander. _Well, shit_. _I should've expected this. Harry Potter couldn't be normal; it would defy logic. I'm starting to think that when I reflected the killing curse, it altered my DNA to do the unpossible. It's the only logical reason that I can find to explain my logic defying abilities. Sort of like Spiderman, except with evil snake men, and no superpowers. _

"Hey old man, can I stay here? My relatives are in Majorca, my caretaker's a crazy cat lady acting on the orders of a crazy lemon-drop-sucking-twinkly-eyed-neon-robed-ball-o-eccentricity." Only he could possible say _that_! Ollivander processed that all very quickly.

"First of all, call me Ollie. Second, and stop me if I'm wrong, you're saying that your family went to Majorca without you, Mrs. Figg was supposed to take care of you, but was under Dumbledore's orders, which I'm guessing include lying about being a squib and spying on you?"

"You know, you summed that up pretty well, there!" Harry grinned at the look of incredulity on Ollie's face. "And what's with Ollie? What kind of parents name their kid Oliver Ollivander?" Ollivander smirked.

"I used to think that too, but then a young lady came into my shop a few years back. You know what her name was? _Nymphadora _Tonks. I haven't complained about my name since." Harry laughed for a good solid minute before he sobered.

"You haven't answered my question. Can I stay here?" Harry asked somberly. Ollie's grin reassured him.

"Of course you can! To teach you wandless magic, I must teach you every day for about the next month. Now I'll warn you boy, you may think you're powerful, but you're _not_. Sure, you've got potential, and a veritable sea of power to draw from, but so do most witches and wizards. Three things limit most people. The will to draw on that sea of power, the belief that they can use this power, and the amount of knowledge they have. Take Albus Dumbledore, The Dark Lord, and Hermione Granger. Albus Dumbledore has will, as proven by his mastery of Occlumency, the defense of the mind, and knowledge. He has 150 years of experience, and he has used all of them wisely. The Dark Lord has always believed that he was special, and delved farther into dark knowledge than anyone has since Morgan le Fay herself. Hermione Granger is driven by her desire to prove that Muggleborns can match, and even surpass, purebloods. She reads every book she can get her hands on, absorbing information like a sponge."

Here Ollie paused to draw breath, also conjuring some water and taking a swig. "Take on the other hand, Ronald Weasley. He has great potential, but doesn't believe he can use it. He has been overshadowed by his brothers numerous achievements all his life and believes he will never surpass them. He may dream about it, wish for it, but he doesn't believe it. He has also never shown any drive to learn. He is far more content to lays about copying off Mrs. Granger, playing chess, and talking Quidditch with his friends. You have a choice to make, Mr. Potter. Do you want to be one of the sheep, fenced in by your own mind, Dumbledore or the Dark Lord shepherding you on a path of their choosing? Or will you be the Hawk, soaring above the sheep, crafting your own path, weathering the sea of power within you and coming out on top? The choice is yours, Mr. Potter. Choose Wisely."

"Do not ask any questions now. Think on what I've told you. If the questions are important enough you will remember them tomorrow. Goodnight, Harry." Oliver led Harry up a concealed set stairs and to a second floor of his shop. He gestured to the 3rd door on the right, and Harry opened the door, dragged his trunk inside, and fell onto the bed. His mind reeled with everything he had been told. _Everyone has the potential to match Dumbledore. It's just so hard to believe! But, it does make sense. When you're raised on stories of how powerful the Dark Lord, and Dumbledore are, it' d be tough to imagine surpassing them. Now, it's time to decide. Will I be the sheep, or will I be the hawk?_

Most people would assume he would just decide Hawk, right away. Harry didn't. He realized that weathering the sea of power wouldn't be easy. He knew that outside the pasture was beautiful, but wild and dangerous as well. Inside, he would be free to not worry about important choices, leaving that up to Dumbledore. He would have to think on this. With that, Harry fell into a deep slumber.

Oliver woke Harry up in a very cruel way the next morning. After shaking him several times, but finding the boy non-responsive, Oliver imitated Severus Snape's silky voice and said loudly in Harry's ear: "500,000 points from Gryffindor for passing out, drunk and naked, on the head table. I bet my Slytherins would love to see these pictures!" Harry shot out of bed, looking down at himself. Upon seeing that he was fully clothed and had been lying in a bed, not a table, Harry glared reproachfully at the old man.

"It's only 6:00, Ollie! What's wrong with you!" The old man just chuckled at him.

"You're going to need all the time you can to master wandless magic in a month, if you can even manage _that. _So, you're going to get up at 6:00 every day, or I will charm your nuts and eyeballs to change positions! Got it? Good_!" Oliver could be a very creepy old man_, Harry decided. _Though I suppose he does work in a musty shop where most of his customers were eleven year olds, all at the same time of the year._

"So, Oliver, what are we gonna do today?" Harry inquired. Oliver gave an evil grin.

"_We're _not going to do anything. _You _are going to read this book, while I am going to start crafting next year's wands." With that, Oliver dropped a huge dusty tome on the desk in his room and left. He heard the sounds of various tools being used in the next room over, and realized that Oliver's workshop must be next to Harry's room. With that, Harry began to read The Principals of Wandless Magicks By Gunter Goosehawl.

_This book, faithful reader, shall be your guide through the murky and difficult path of learning wandless magicks. If you believe that you shall have complex spells flying from your fingertips after reading this book, leave now, please. Wandless magick is difficult, non-precise, and unwieldy. To gain true mastery of this art is to have near total control of the magick that flows within you. No one, myself included has mastered this art as of the time of this book's writing. If you can, then I ask that you make whatever amendments or additions necessary to this book, so as to help others achieve what you have. If you fail, do not be disheartened. I have studied this art for going on two centuries now, and have yet to be anywhere near mastering it. Please, when you are finished with this book, pass it on to one you believe to be worthy, so that this form of magick will not die out._

--Gunter Goosehawl, Author and Scholar of Wandless Magicks

As Harry made his way into the depths of this book, the day wore on. Eventually, Oliver entered the room to find Harry still pouring over the book, not even halfway through. As it had been 8 hours since he had left Harry there, Oliver wondered just how slow of a reader Harry was. Then he saw slips of paper all through the pages of the book, acting as bookmarks, as well as a pile of notes on the desk, and realized Harry had read and re-read the book, going back and taking notes! _He might just have the dedication to learn wandless magick in a month after all!_

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A/N 2 Please Review!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N This is Chapter Two of my first multiple chapter story, Harry Potter and the Wandmaker's Journey. Please read and review! Tell me You loved it, you hated it, Tell me to update sooner, flame me, whatever you think!

Thanks, Jarlzax.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, You'd probably still be waiting for Goblet of Fire. Also, you wouldn't be reading this, as I'd be too busy writing Goblet of Fire to be writing fanfiction. JK Rowling owns Harry Potter along with Publications including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

_**But **__**Enough Blathering! On with the story!**_

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Harry poured over The Principals of Wandless Magic reading it for the third time in one day. It had gotten late, so he was reading by candlelight. He rather enjoyed the flickering light illuminating his desk. Harry's pile of notes was huge by now. The book was a veritable goldmine of information, but it wasn't written like any textbook or informative book that Harry had ever read. There was tons of information, but the author seemed to add little tidbits a bout his own adventures with wandless magic. Somehow, the book drew him in and wouldn't let him go.

Harry heard the door to his room open, and Ollie was apparently just watching him. After a few minutes, and Harry grew uncomfortable just sitting there with Ollie staring at him. He lay down his quill, marked his page, and turned around in his seat. "What's up, Ollie?" Harry appeared to have startled the old man, something he was unnaturally pleased with.

"It's time for dinner, boy! And wipe that smirk off your face, you're getting quizzed while we eat!" Ollie did indeed quiz Harry. He asked the most obscure, then the most obvious, and then questions not answered in the book. Harry answered about half correctly. He could tell Oliver was disappointed in him, but he had done his best.

"Now boy, as it's only your first day, I'll cut you some slack. However, if you perform so poorly again after tonight, I'll have you dodging hexes for the next three hours! This is serious business, my friend. You need to have a new wand, and to get a wand that truly fits you, your core must be in its proper shape!" Oliver dismissed him back to his room after that. Harry's eyes were downcast; Oliver could tell that he was disappointed in himself. Ollie felt mildly guilty, but shoved the feeling out of the way. The boy needed a firm hand to guide him through the wandless magic, and Oliver _knew_ that he could do a hell of a lot better if he really applied himself.

Harry meanwhile was kicking himself inside. _I should have known better than to just copy down the big ideas in my notes! _Harry himself knew that he would have to do better if he wanted to succeed at wandless magic. Right now though, he just didn't feel like studying. Besides, it was time that he chose a school to go to. He opened his trunk and retrieved the book that he had bought. Skipping the intro this time, he found the first chapter was dedicated to Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: considered by many to be the best school in Wizarding World, its ideas are actually outdated and archaic. Hogwarts is in Northern Scotland. Their Transfiguration classes are ranked # 5 in the world. Subjects: Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Potions, Astronomy, History of Magic, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Divination, and Muggle Studies. Additional Notes: Hogwarts students are sorted into four houses named for the founders of the school. They are Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Gryffindor is for the brave; Slytherin is for the cunning and ambitious; Hufflepuff is for hard workers; and Ravenclaw is for the intelligent. These houses divide the school, creating conflict and prejudice. Rank: 201 out of 250. Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
_

_Beauxbatons Academy of Magic: The main school in France, noted for its excellence in Charms work. Subjects: Charms, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Potions, Light Magic for Attack, Defending Against the Dark, Herbology, Astronomy, Muggle Studies, and Advanced Charms. Additional notes: Although not segregated into houses, they are grouped into boys and girls for classes. Also, Beauxbatons has always had a large prejudice against any and all dark arts. Rank: 200. Headmistress: Olympe Maxime  
_

_Durmstrang Institute: Smaller than the other major European Schools, as it only admits pureblood wizards. It is located in Germany. Durmstrang is renowned for its Dark Arts program. Subjects: Dark Arts and their Defense, Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Astronomy, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Dark Spellcrafting, and 7__th__ year necromancy. Additional notes: Unlike most schools, Durmstrang doesn't admit muggleborns, nor does it teach muggle studies. Although having a relatively small castle, the grounds are huge. There are no houses in Durmstrang, due to its small student body. Rank: 114. Headmaster: Igor Karkaroff  
_

None of these schools (other than Hogwarts) looked very appealing to him, so he went to the next chapter. He read through the book, and eventually had decided on going on to one of these 3 schools.

_Pyramid College of Magick- Pyramid College is located in Egypt. It is renowned for it's warding, curse breaking, Defensive Magick, and Offensive Magick. It teaches many Egyptian spells and wards otherwise lost to the ages. Subjects: Warding, Curse Breaking, Defensive Magick, Offensive Magick, Dueling, Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Ancient and Modern Runes and their Uses, Potions, and Medical Magics. Additional Notes: Ranked at # 13 out of 250 on the Magical Academy list, The Pyramid College is exceptionally hard to get into. Rigorous practical and theoretical exams are given before allowing anyone entry. Please note that both Dark and Light magic are taught in Defensive and Offensive Magic classes. All Humanoid races are taught there. Headmistress: Unknown  
_

_Rocky Mountain Institute of Learning: Located on the American side of the Rocky Mountains. The Institute is renowned for its dueling, wilderness training and elemental magic. Subjects: Dueling, Survival in the Wilderness, Harnessing Elemental Magic, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Muggle Studies, Transfiguration, The Dark Arts, Healing, Poisons and Potions, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Native American Magic. Additional Notes: This school has produced more world-class duelers than any other. Its Rigorous wilderness training involves practical exams where you are left in various spots on the earth and made to survive for seven days. Only those with Native American blood can learn Native American Magic. All races are taught here, including Vampires, Werewolves, and High-Elves. Rank: 7__th__ in the world. Headmaster: Thomas DeMarcus  
_

_Seabound Magical School: Located on a hidden island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Seabound is renowned for its Magical Items Class, Battle Magicks, Defensive Magic, and Assassination classes. Classes: Magical Items Class, Defensive Magic, Battle Magicks, Transfiguration and its uses in battle, Assassination, Stealth Magic, Medical Magic, Charms, Blood Magic, Necromancy, The Black Arts, Magical Weaponry, and Technomancy. Additional Notes: This is an extremely battle oriented school. Every weekend there are violent fights in the school's arena. The Black Arts are some of the deadliest, hardest, most dangerous, and dark magics in the world. The Magical Items class is one of the only non-battle oriented classes there. If you go to that school and take Magical Items, you will learn to craft and identify magical items, including but not limited to: Time-Turners, Invisibility Cloaks, Sneak-o-Scopes, foe-glasses, and wands. This school is immensely difficult to get into, admittance only given to the very best. Rank: not ranked due to not allowing World Magical Academy Association Members inspect their school. Headmaster: Unknown  
_

Harry wanted to somehow go to all of these schools, but didn't see how he possibly could. He would have to choose just one, but it was so hard… Harry fell into an uneasy slumber. He woke up early the next morning, and poured over the tome about wandless magic. He looked up all of the correct answers to the questions Oliver had asked him last night, and realized that several of the answers fit together to answer the question that hadn't been in the book. When Oliver came into his room to wake him up, he found Harry actually trying to do wandless magic. Oliver saw the frustrated expression on his face and burst out laughing.

"You didn't really expect to manage wandless magic on your second day, did you? I told you that it'd take a month at best! You need to get some patience!" Ollie was still laughing as Harry glowered at him.

"Well, what should I do then? I think I've got the theory down, but I just can't manage the actual magic?" Harry was curious, frustrated, and feeling very foolish.

"Got the theory down, do you?" Oliver immediately began quizzing Harry on all that he himself knew about wandless magic theory. Harry answered them all correctly, startling the old man. _Good lord, the boy really does have potential! _"Well boy, you've impressed me today! However, I wasn't prepared for you to have the theory down so quickly, so for today, tomorrow and the next day, you'll be assisting me. After that, I'll teach you a few exercises on reaching your magical core. That'll take you about a week to finish. Then we'll begin some very simple wandless magic, like levitating a feather. When you're able to levitate a book, I'll teach you what you need to know so you can completely magically exhaust yourself. At the end of the month, if you live up to my expectations, we'll be ready to craft you your very own custom wand!" Harry listened raptly, glad that he had so far done what the old man had expected.

"What will I be helping you with, sir?" Oliver laughed.

"You can still call me Ollie, you know. Sir makes me feel old!" Harry got a sly grin on his face

"Well sir, you _are_ pretty old, sir!" Harry laughed as he saw the look on Oliver's face.

"Why I ought to… Alright, just follow me, you ungrateful little toe-rag!" Oliver led Harry to a room at the end of the hallway. Oliver flung open the door to reveal a huge forest, full of various magical creatures. He saw several phoenixes circling overhead, a basilisk, which lay in its cave with empty eye sockets, several unicorns prancing, and all the trees! There was every shape, size and type of tree imaginable, from spindly ash trees to towering oaks that must have been centuries old!

"Today, Harry my friend, we harvest all that we need to craft a very special wand! It's one to replace the snapped holly and phoenix feather one that you had." Harry felt kind of guilty, but then realized it was the fault of the person who had violated his magical core. He and Ollivander wandered through the forest until they came to a very young cherry tree. Oliver approached the tree, and respectfully bowed to it. A faint wind blew through the clearing they were standing in, and the tree seemed to bow back. Oliver took out a silver knife and carefully cut a small branch off the tree.

"How do you know what branch to take from which tree?" Harry asked curiously. Oliver snorted.

"Harry, I've been doing this for going on 2 centuries now. I can just sense it." Oliver replied.

They walked in silence for another hour wandering the forest before they came to the basilisk. Harry greeted the basilisk, "_**Hello, my friend!"**_ Oliver paled and the basilisk swung his head towards Harry. _**Please, speaker! Free me! **_

"Why is the basilisk asking to be freed?" Harry asked Mr. Ollivander. The old man sighed.

"I have to keep him restrained. He violated the terms of a magically binding contract by eating the other creatures of the forest." Oliver replied sadly. "Also Harry, You should hide the fact that you can talk to snakes. Many people are prejudiced against it because The Dark Lord was the last known Parseltongue." Harry nodded, ignoring the snake's loud pleas for help and waited as Oliver took a scale from the top of the huge creature's head. Harry and Oliver walked from the forest back to the place above his shop. They entered the room next to Harry's, which was Oliver's workshop.

The dimly lit room had only two pieces of furniture in it, a desk and a comfortable chair. The floor near the desk was covered with wood shavings and Harry had to be careful not to slip. Oliver conjured Harry a chair next to the desk. They sat down and Oliver handed Harry several pieces of wood. "These won't be used in wandmaking, but they'll be good practice for you. Get to work!" Harry began whittling them down to a rough wand shape. 2 hours and several cuts later, Harry had 5 pieces of wood in front of him. They were all about 14 inches long, wide at the bottom for about 5 inches and then slowly getting thinner. The 5 inches at the bottom was where the handle would be. Oliver then instructed him to begin sanding down the wood, until it was smooth. This took Harry about an hour to get all 5 pieces of wood done.

Now Oliver handed him a knife, which Harry was to use to cut the handle off. He did so, and cut a groove around the inside edge of wand. The thin groove left about a 3-inch thick center of wood separated from a 2 inch thick outside. Ollivander cast a spell that extended the groove all the way to the tip of the wand. The center of the wand popped out, leaving Harry a space to put a core. But first, Oliver handed him a potion. Harry poured the potion in the hollow center of the wand and watched as it left a smooth and shiny finish on the inside. Oliver gave him 2 tiny strings and a small, scale shaped piece of wood. The strings would serve as the vessel to carry the magic from the user's hand to the core, then out of the tip of the wand. Harry put the strings and core in the hollow wand, and then bound wand shaft and handle back together.

Now, he had to mix a new potion with his blood and leave the wand to soak for 2 days. After the 2 days were up, the fake-wand would have his unique "signature" on it, verifying that it was his creation. _Oliver was right! There is a lot of work to making a wand! And this wasn't even a real one!_

The next two days passed similarly for Harry, with he and Oliver gathering components and then crafting wands for Oliver, and making fake wands for Harry. Finally, on the third day, Harry learned exercises for wandless magic. He would meditate four hours a day, trying to feel the path of magic flowing within him. As Ollivander had predicted, it took Harry a week to learn.

Finally, Oliver was satisfied that Harry was ready to attempt levitating the feather. Before they began Ollie warned him, "Wandless magic isn't that magically draining, only mentally. It will take all of your will to get the tiniest affect at first, but it'll get easier as time goes on, I swear." He instructed Harry to begin meditation again. When he was satisfied that Harry had reached his magical core, Oliver instructed him to try to push that magic out of his arms and use it to levitate the feather. Harry didn't accomplish anything for about 4 days, and then he got frustrated. He pushed at his magic with all his might and it erupted from him. Unfortunately, it incinerated the feather instead of floating it. Oliver just chuckled and told him to try again.

It went like that for another four days. Harry, now able to force his magic out of his body, had great difficulty controlling it. He had to focus all his will on getting the magic to flow from him, and then had to somehow will it to pick up the feather. On the 9th day, he had a breakthrough. He willed the magic to wait just under the surface of his palm, and to stay there. It obeyed and he concentrated on an invisible hand of magic picking up the feather. It was hard work, but it did the job. Oliver was pleased but told him to speed up the time it took, as taking 15 minutes to levitate something was very impractical. Over the next week, Harry sped up his levitation, so that he could do it in 30 seconds. It still took an outrageous amount of will to keep the feather floating.

Once he had that down pat, Oliver gave him a book to levitate. It was much harder to keep up, but there was no huge difference between the book and the feather. It took him another week and a half to get the book to stay up for over minute. Now Ollivander said, it was time for him to learn how he would be wearing out his core, almost totally.

"The only way that wandless magic becomes truly magically exhausting is multiple casting. It is the one big difference, and advantage, that wandless magic has over wand magic. With a wand, you can only cast one spell at a time. You can train yourself so that you're firing 3 spells in 3 seconds, but it's still only one spell at a time. With wandless magic, you can levitate over 100 things at once, which is what you'll be doing. You will levitate every wand in my shop, along with yourself! This will be highly dangerous, but it's the only way that wandless magic will drain your core completely." Harry was worried, but he _would _to do it! He had to!

"Sir, why can't I just use a wand not suited to me to exhaust myself?" Harry intended it as an innocent question, but Oliver exploded.

"I explained this last time! With all the work I put into my wands, only the person they were made for will use them, as long as I have anything to say about it! Asking me to let you use a wand not suited for you is like asking a Christian to piss on the Virgin Mary! It's sacrilege, and it ain't gonna happen!" Ollie looked like he was going to blow a gasket, so Harry cut him off.

"So I've got about a week to learn to levitate all these wands at once?" Harry asked, wisely choosing to drop the subject of wands for now. Ollivander nodded quietly, finally calming down. Harry got to work at once. He slowly increased how many wands he could pick up, from one, to two, to three and so on. By the end of the week, Harry was confident that he could pick up the wands and himself.

"It's time, boy! Lets get going!" Oliver tended to shout when he got nervous. It was one of his more irritating habits, one that Harry had tried to cure him of, but to no avail

Harry took a deep calming breath and shoved down his irritation at Ollie. He needed complete concentration for this. He levitated himself first. Then he picked up one wand at a time until he had about forty up. That's when the strain set in. He was fighting for every wand he picked up now, fighting against his mind, his magic, and his very body! They all screamed for him to stop, but he had to keep going, Oliver was watching him, eyes filled with pride. When he saw the boy start to falter, he cheered him on, loudly. _The boy isn't a half-bad companion, when it comes down to it. I'll miss him when he goes… Aw who am I kidding? The kid isn't going anywhere, yet. And when he does, I'll finally get some peace and quiet back into my home!_

Finally, when Harry had all of the wands up for 10 minutes straight, he ran out of magic. He passed out cold, and all the wands fell back to the shelves. Oliver dragged the boy up the steps by the arms. Harry would have a very sore head when he woke up. _Payback for calling me old, boy! Don't mess with the Ollivander!_ He started dancing a crazy jig as he threw the boy on his bed. _Who's the best? I am! Damn straight, bitch!_ He suddenly realized that he was dancing over the body of an unconscious friend, and burst out laughing. _Maybe I am getting old…_

A week later, Harry woke up in a warm bed. For a minute, he couldn't remember where he was, but then he saw the moon-like eyes of Oliver Ollivander staring down at him. "Finally you're awake! Jesus Christ kid, you know that you got the entire Hogwarts staff searching for you? Dumbledore wants his golden boy back under his thumb! You just wait 'til you show up at Hogwarts! He's gonna tan your hide 6 ways to Sunday." Ollie carried on in this spiel until Harry interrupted him.

"Well then, I guess it's a good thing I'm not going back to Hogwarts." Harry said smirking.

"WHAT! Why aren't you going back to Hogwarts?" Oliver asked, staring at him like he was crazy.

"I made a Wizarding Vow to a house elf that I wouldn't go if he could give me a reason not too. I figured an evil dark artifact set to open the 'Chamber of Secrets' and kill me was a pretty damn good reason." Oliver stared at him. _Who the hell makes a wizard vow to a House Elf?_

"What about your friends though?" Ollie inquired thoughtfully.

"If they don't care enough to write me a single letter all summer, then I don't care enough to tell them that I'm not going back!"

"Jeez boy, no need to get all defensive! Where will you go?" Ollie asked.

"Rocky Mountain Institute of Learning, Pyramid College of Magic, or Seabound School of Magic." Harry replied. Oliver looked thoughtful for a second, but then his face cleared.

"Alright, get out of bed now!" Ollivander commanded the young man.

"But I'm still tired, Ollie! Just one more day won't hurt!" Harry said in a whining voice that he knew would irritate the old man. Harry should have known that Oliver wouldn't take that lying down. Indeed, Oliver responded in a very crafty, evil way.

"Alright, if you don't think you're up to it, I guess you can wait until tomorrow to make your new wand. I completely understand!" Ollivander said all this with an evil smirk, the likes of which you were likely to see upon Voldemort's face during his first reign of terror.

Harry shot out of bed, faster than a bullet. "Let's get cracking!"

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A/N PLEASE VISIT MY PROFILE AND VOTE ON WHICH SCHOOL YOU WANT HARRY TO GO TO!


	3. Chapter 3

AN/ This is a short update and way late! I'm really sorry! Disclaimer's in chapters one and two. I'll try to get the next one out much faster!

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"Now my dear boy--" Harry interrupted Oliver Ollivander quickly.

"Don't call me that. It reminds me too much of Dumbledore." Ollivander was curious now.

"What did the Headmaster do to you that was so bad?" Ollivander asked. Harry got angry very quickly when it came to the venerable Headmaster.

"He knew I was stuck in a cupboard for 11 years of my life—" Ollivander cut him off.

"Don't you go bitching to me, boy! It's unfortunate that you were kept in a cupboard and not loved, but it's a damn sight better than thousands of children in orphanages!" Oliver felt bad for the boy, but it was important not to have the boy feeling sorry for himself.

Harry tried to think of something to say to this, but couldn't find any words. It was true; he had come to expect sympathy from those he told about his childhood with the Dursleys. Harry realized the old man was right, however. It hadn't been a horrible childhood. Pleasant, no. It was, however, better than an orphanage. At least he had learned to cook, clean, and take care of himself at a young age. Oliver startled him out of his reflection by gruffly saying, "Follow me. Its time we began work on your wand. Now, what wood do you want?"

Harry was startled. "I thought I would walk around the forest til I felt drawn to a tree or something. The wand chooses the wizard and all that." Oliver laughed heartily.

"The wand chooses the wizard, Harry. The wood and core don't. The finished product is what has the ability to choose, not a piece of wood and animal part." Harry felt very foolish as Oliver looked expectantly at him. He thought for a moment and decided.

"I'll have oak." He had chosen oak because it was hard, strong, and is resistant to insect and fungal attacks while in tree form. Hopefully some of these rather attractive traits would carry over to his wand. Ollivander nodded.

"A good choice. After all, the Merlin Tree was an oak." Harry hadn't known that. Oliver then led him to the forest, and led him to a grove of oak trees. He chose a huge oak tree, 6 and a half feet in diameter and about 120 feet tall. Oliver grumbled, but conjured a ladder, and gracefully plucked a branch that was the right size from the towering oak. "Now Harry, for the core. You have several choices: Unicorn tail-hairs, Phoenix Feather, Dragon Heartstring, Chimera scale, Basilisk scale, Runespoor Fang (from the critic's head, making it highly venomous), Acromantula Eye, Manticore Barb, Thestral Bone, Nundu Tooth, Dementor Skin, Graphorn Skin, Quintaped Toenail, and Sphinx Tail-Hair. You may choose up to 3 of these."

Harry was shocked. He had never even heard of some of these, and this would take some thinking. The only two he could rule out automatically were Quintaped toenails and Phoenix feathers. He refused to have anything's _toenails_ in his wand, even if they came from Merlin himself. Phoenix feathers reminded him painfully of his old wand, and he wanted nothing to do with the thing that had been twisted to his magical core.

He thought over it carefully, and realized that he would need to do more research. He told Oliver as much, and he was sent to buy a new copy of _Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander. Apparently a new version was out. Harry rushed out of the shop, eager to get on with the wand craft. As he entered Flourish and Blotts however, a tight hand gripped his elbow, and he was whirled around to see the sallow-skinned, greasy haired, hooked nosed, and all together terrible visage of Professor Severus Snape.

"Come with me, you foolish, impertinent, snot-nosed brat, the headmaster wishes to see you!" Snape was being even nastier than usual.

"And if I don't want to see the headmaster?" Harry inquired softly. Snape sneered.

"You will come with me, one way or another, boy!" He hissed at Harry. Harry had had enough of this. He couldn't use magic to defend himself against the older man, but he had a weapon much more useful.

"No! I don't want to go with you! Let go of me! HELP!" Harry was screaming loudly, fake tears swimming in his eyes. Immediately everyone in the Alley turned to stare at the pair. Snape snarled, still refusing to let him go, and that was his undoing.

A formidable looking pair of old witches descended on Severus Snape and began to hit him with rather large handbags. It looked like it hurt, too. Snape immediately let Harry go to try to ward off the attacking ladies, and Harry slipped into Flourish and Blotts. He quickly bought the book, and rushed back to Ollivander's, sticking his tongue out at the still besieged visage of Severus Snape. Harry read up on the various magical creatures. He quickly ruled out Dementor Skin, as he didn't want a wand that sucked the happiness out of him. Acromantula eyes were ruled out due to the fact that giant spiders didn't have many interesting powers. Graphorn skin was powerful for defense, being more effective than dragon skin at blocking spells. Nundu tooth would be very deadly, as the breath of a nundu could wipe out an entire village. So would the instantly deadly sting of the Manticore. Unicorn horn seemed quite unlike him, as did dragon heartstring. He felt slightly ill, as the dragons must be quite uncomfortable as their heartstrings were pulled out.

All in all, it seemed like the best choices were graphorn skin for defense, nundu tooth for attack, and sphinx tail-hairs for intricate magic. Graphorn skin was even better than dragon skin for deflecting spells, nundu were considered the deadliest beasts on the planet, and sphinxes were notoriously clever. As long as the pieces from each of these creatures followed these characteristics, he should have a well-balanced wand capable of powerful battle-magic, excellent warding, as well as the most intricate of charms and transfigurations.

When he informed Oliver, the old man didn't seem too surprised. They were three of the most powerful creatures, with the nundu being rated XXXXX or most dangerous by the Ministry and graphorns and sphinxes being rated XXXX. "This will be a very powerful wand, Mr. Potter. Indeed, many people overlook oak for wands, as it is one of the more common woods, with little apparent uniqueness about it. This is a foolish thing to do, as Merlin himself had a staff fashioned of Oak from his own tree in Caerfyrddin. That's Welsh for Carmarthen, boy!"

Harry looked away, slightly embarrassed at his lack of knowledge. "Buck up, Harry! You are going to be one of the few to have made your own wand. I will, of course, be supervising you closely." Harry's face lit up, and Oliver chuckled as he led Harry up to his workshop. He took the three items Harry had chosen, and placed the rest carefully in a trunk. Harry noticed he picked up the large nundu tooth with a pair of tongs. Harry once again went through the process of cutting, sanding, and hollowing his wand. He carefully bound the three items together with the magic threads. He then placed them carefully inside of the 13-inch oak shell. Ollivander bound the handle and main wand part together and set it down. He guided Harry through the process of making a finishing potion, with the base being his own blood. Harry had to let the wand soak for three days, but it was very difficult waiting that long. Oliver had grown so sick of his grumbling that he sent him out to wander the alley.

Harry walked along, looking for interesting shops. Eventually, he came to a magical watch shop. He wandered inside, and browsed the shelves. He came to a nice, but affordable, watch. It was stainless steel, with a plain analogue face. The watch had four buttons on it, one to change the mode between analogue, and digital, one to project the time in a sphere above the watch, one to project an adjustable model of the galaxy, and one to automatically set the time. The watch was a bargain at 10 galleons, too. He bought it quickly, and wandered back down the alley to Ollivander's. He went inside, and paced all around his room. He really wanted the stupid wand to be finished, but he knew he couldn't rush it. Rushing highly sensitive magical objects really wasn't a very good idea.

Harry spent his time over the next two days mostly in Oliver's shop, as Snape had reported his whereabouts to most of the Hogwarts staff. Oliver had told him that he had seen the staff searching the alley, so it was best if he lay low for a while. It was murder, having nothing to do for two whole days. He read and re-read all of the books that he had with him, sketched what he thought his completed wand would look like, and checked the time anxiously, wanting the time to pass. His new favorite hobby was to project the model universe from his watch and stare at all of the stars. Even this got boring after a while though.

On the third day, Harry woke early. Oliver wasn't up yet, but Harry corrected this with a large bucket of water. After dodging Oliver's hexes, he was lead to the workshop. There, Oliver carefully removed the wand from the liquid. The wand looked singularly unremarkable in the dim lighting of the room. Harry was slightly disappointed, but then he took the wand from Oliver's hands. The resulting rush of magic lit the entire room as the wand's tip ignited like a small sun. Harry immediately knew that this wand was perfect for him, and understood why Oliver had been so upset at the misplacement of the holly and phoenix feather wand. Knowing that the wand _he _Harry Potter had crafted was perfect for him was a rush unlike anything else in his life. The sense of contentment was nearly overwhelming.

"Why don't all wizards and witches craft their own wands?" Harry asked. This feeling was one he wouldn't trade for the entire world.

"Laziness, lack of talent, and lack of confidence. Most wizards just want to get their wands and start casting. Also, not many have the ability to craft wands. It used to be that you crafted your own wand, or you couldn't do magic. Then wandmakers came along and produced a solution for all of the mediocre wizards out there." Oliver didn't sound to displeased at this.

Harry was itching to try out the new wand. "Can I use the wand, Oliver? Will I be caught by the Ministry if I use it?"

"No, I haven't installed the usual Ministry tracking charms—" Oliver was cut off as a bell downstairs rung. Oliver peered through a concealed peephole at the customer._ So that's how he always knows who is in the store!_ Oliver strode down the stairs with Harry tagging along. The customer was a brown haired, blue-eyed fellow, with rather mundane robes. The man glanced at Oliver, but then his eyes snapped onto Harry. His eyes twinkled in a most familiar way. _No, it can't be!_ The image of the brown haired man faded to reveal the blue-eyed, white haired old man wearing a spectacular orange robe with green birds fluttering around on it. It was a garish outfit that sent chills of horror down Harry's spine. Although Harry firmly stood by a saying by one Oscar Wilde: "Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months." He did not believe that one should dress themselves in such an abominable manner. _That kind of dress should be outlawed! It's like looking at a mini-sun!_

"Now Harry, my dear boy! It is time for you to return to your Aunt and Uncle's house. They are back from Majorca and very eager to see you again." Dumbledore stared disapprovingly down his crooked nose at the boy in front of him. _I wish I could give whoever broke that man's nose an award! _

"No, I wont go back there! If I have to, I'll fight you!" Harry was not being realistic, as any adult wizard, yet alone Albus Dumbledore could wipe the floor with him. Literally. However, as many young people are, Harry was overconfident in his ability to deal with situations. Like many naive people, Harry believed at the moment that righteous anger and courage would let him weather the fiercest storms. Harry was wrong.

Dumbledore's eyes widened as he saw the wand that Harry grasped. This wasn't the wand Harry was supposed to have! How would he maintain Priori Incatatem with Voldemort if he didn't have the brother wand! This was terrible! "Harry, my dear boy! Where is your wand?" Harry glared at him.

"It snapped, you old fart! It wasn't suited for me at all. I have a new wand, now!" Dumbledore was shocked.

"Now my dear boy, surely—" Dumbledore was cut off by Ollivander, who was glowing with power.

"So, you're the one who mismatched _**MY**_ wands then, Dumbledore. No one messes with my wands." Oliver raised his wand, as did Dumbledore. Harry looked on in awe. The aura the men exuded was palpable as the old folks got ready to duel.


	4. Chapter 4

AN/ Mmmkay… So, I just wanted to thank everyone who reviewed, favorited, alerted, or C2'd this story

AN/ Mmmkay… So, I just wanted to thank everyone who reviewed, favorited, alerted, or C2'd this story. To address some questions: Dumbledore doesn't have the elder wand. I'm not sure if I'm going to even have the Deathly Hallows, and if I do, I'm doing it way different than JKR. I've almost chosen the school Harry's gonna go to, and that'll be coming up soon. Just remember, Harry's not even started second year yet, so he's gonna be pretty different than he is in cannon. Right now, I have no plans for any relationships in the story, so yer… I might just have to take some of the reviewers up on their suggestions in dis here chappie… But fo Now…

ON WITH THE STORY

Dumbledore and Ollivander stood facing each other, wands drawn, and powers nearly palpable in the air. Dumbledore looked confident. After all, who would expect senile old Ollivander to present even a tiny challenge to the great Albus Dumbledore? No one, of course! Being the master dueler that Dumbledore was, he surveyed his surroundings to look for something to use against Oliver. _Wands, wands, wands… all he's got are wands. He sure seems to love them, though. I wonder…_ Dumbledore was thinking devious thoughts about the shop.

Meanwhile, Oliver stood staring at the old man. He had never thought that _Dumbledore_ of all people would twist a young boy's magical core in a way that could permanently damage him! If Dumbledore had thought that he would let this slide, then he was sorely mistaken. Dumbledore was also in for a nasty surprise if he thought he could easily defeat Oliver Ollivander, Wandmaker Extraordinaire!

Dumbledore had had enough of waiting for something to happen. He waved his wand in a long arc, trying to transfigure the wands in the shop into birds to attack and distract Oliver. He was astounded when nothing happened. Oliver, however, just smirked. Dumbledore tried over and over again to curse, transfigure, and otherwise harm the venerable wandmaker, but to no avail.

Eventually, the old twinkly-eyed man was reduced to shouting "Stupefy!" at the other old man. Eventually, he threw his wand on the ground and pouted. Oliver flicked his wand at Dumbledore, making a goat appear in a… compromising… position with the old man. There was also a replica of Lucius Malfoy hitting Dumbledore over the head with his cane. Oliver threw a camera at Harry, who immediately snapped pictures of the once respected headmaster. Deciding that he had sufficiently embarrassed the headmaster Oliver raised his own ash and dragon heartstring wand and waved it. A fountain of red sparks flew from the tip, surrounding Dumbledore. The sparks flew closer and closer to Dumbledore, before he disappeared with a pop.

Oliver smiled, saying, "I've always wanted an excuse to do that! Thanks for being maligned by your headmaster, Harry!" Oliver never liked the way that Albus Dumbledore thought he was so great, and knew what was best for everyone. He'd wanted to take the man down a few pegs for some time now.

"Thanks, I guess…" Harry looked at the old man a little strangely. Oliver stuck his tongue out at the boy, being unusually immature. It wasn't entirely his fault though, as you don't severely embarrass one of the most powerful wizards in the world every day! It made the old man feel young again to get the better of Albus Dumbledore.He had been the originator of several uncomplimentary nicknames of the venerable headmaster: _Dumb_ledore, Dumbledork, Bumbledore, and Bumblebee to name a few.

Harry asked Ollie, "Now that the old man has been taken care of, what do I do now? Dumbledore knows where I'm staying now, I can't stay here!" Harry was sad, he'd grown fond of the wrinkled old man that had helped him so much.

"Slow down there boy, I doubt Dumbledore will do anything to you for quite some time. Not with me holding pictures of him _fraternizing_ with a goat." Ollie said, a malicious grin spreading across his face, one that was soon mirrored on Harry's. "You know, his brother got in some trouble for something like this. Dumbledore will be in no hurry to experience it!"

"Dumbledore has a brother?" Harry asked curiously. He had never heard of this.

"Of course he does, Aberforth is his name, and he also had a sister… But I don't want to go there. Nasty business." Oliver said calmly. "We do, however, need to get you out of here before August 25th. That's when I get the usual crush of first years getting their wands. There's also the matter of where you'll be going to school. I don't have time to teach you everything that you need to know."

"Well, I think I'm going to go to the—" Harry was cut off as another man swept into the shop. Severus Snape was standing in the shop. Harry stood still and quiet as Oliver left the room to attend to the sallow skinned man. Snape was whining to Oliver about how two old ladies had snapped his wand while attacking him. Harry nearly cracked up, remembering the scene from Diagon Alley. Harry actually did crack up when Snape's new wand was an 8-½ inch willow wand with a unicorn tail strand. Severus Snape had a _really _small wand.

When he said that to Oliver, the old man cracked up. "Wait a second, Oliver, where did you send Dumbledore anyway?"

"I sent him to a cave full of trolls. Hopefully he'll come out unharmed…" Oliver said the last part in a very sarcastic manner.

"Uh Oliver… How do you know where a cave full of trolls are?" Harry asked. Oliver just smiled mysteriously and sent him to bed. Harry couldn't remember what he dreamed about the next morning, but he was pretty sure it was awesome. The only thing that went wrong with the morning was the fact that it was August 1st. _Only 25 days until I have to leave…_Harry would miss the old Oliver Ollivander greatly when he left.

He now needed to decide where he would go to school for the remainder of his education. He decided to rule out the Rocky Mountain Institute of Magic. He just didn't like the sound of it and didn't feel like having to endure jealousy over Native Americans learning special magic. That left Seabound and The Pyramid College. He decided to apply to both and then decide. If he were accepted into one but not the other, then it would be an easy choice. Personally, he was a bit nervous about Seabound. Violent arena fights on weekends didn't sound too appealing to him, but if it was better than Pyramid, then that's where he'd go.

Harry did, however need to get studying. The book said that the applications needed to be in by the 10th and tests taken by the 20th. He had already filled out a chart with the necessary information, but he wouldn't send it yet. Harry asked Oliver if it was safe to go to bookstores, and the old man said it was fine. Dumbledore wouldn't try anything now. In fact, they weren't even sure if he had escaped the trolls yet.

He gave Harry directions to a different bookstore than Flourish and Blotts. The main bookstore of Diagon alley was very expensive, and wasn't always worth it. For wizards, sometimes secondhand books were much better. New spells, improvements on spells, notes in the margin, all of those could be very useful when learning new things. So Harry made his way down the alley until he was next to the entrance of Knockturn Alley. There was a tiny little shop, just before the darker of the Alleys. Harry became doubtful that he would find much of anything in the tiny shop, but he decided to go in anyway.

Walking through the door, Harry was astounded. The shop, though appearing tiny from the outside had a _huge_ inside. There had to be hundreds of shelves, all neatly labeled by category. Harry saw new looking books, books with no covers that were nearly falling apart, and even a book shaped like a human head. The book carried instructions on how to change appearances. The cool part about this book was that it would mirror its owner's face, so you could see the results of the spells without having to try them on yourself. Harry picked that book up immediately. He browsed through the aisles skimming through several books, trying to find ones with useful notes.

Unfortunately for Harry, there were no books by any famous authors. No Merlin, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff. It was not for lack of trying, but this was a public store and someone probably would have found books like that anyway. There was one tiny notebook that he put in the pile only because of the price. It made the stack of books in his arms amount to 10 galleons 16 sickles. The price before he added the book was 10 galleons 8 sickles and 200 knuts. (The clerk had no sickles to give in change, and he had only bought 15 with him, so he had to pay in knuts) He didn't know if he could stand getting 293 knuts in change. It was an odd reason to buy a book, but as soon as the clerk began counting out the change, he stopped him and grabbed the book from the counter. The clerk smiled gratefully and bagged the books. Harry staggered under the weight of what he'd bought, with no one helping him all the way to the store. Harry stumbled up the stairs and laid the books out on his bed.

The tiny book tumbled out first, and strangely the rest of the books fell around it, instead of on it. It was titled _The Life of Armand Stisnovich._ Harry had never heard of the man before, so he laid the book to the side and concentrated on the rest of the books. The head shaped one he lay on his desk, resolving to practice on later. The other 10 books were laid in his trunk. They were_ Transfiguration: Practical uses, Charms for everyday life, Potions for Retards, Runes and Their Uses: A Comprehensive Guide to Warding, Battle Magick for Beginners, So You got Yourself Hurt? Mending Yourself from Injuries Major and Minor, Defending Yourself from Dangerous Creatures, Magical Plants and How to use them, _and _Stealth: Don't Get Caught! _The tiny book lay alone on the bed, and Harry picked it up. He opened it to the first page and found it blank. It was very odd, and he flipped through the book and found it completely blank. He was about to just chuck it across the room when a voice in his head said, "_Don't throw me! The last time that happened I had spine trouble for a week!" _

Harry gasped and said out loud, "What? Who, no what are you?" The voice sighed. _I am the Horcrux of Armand Stisnovich. Before you ask, a Horcrux is a fragment of a soul meant to ensure immortality. It is considered the darkest of magic because to create one you need to kill someone. I'm supposed to suck the life out of you and create a body for myself, but I really don't feel like it… The real me died a long time ago, and I have no wish to return to the world._

"Why not? If that's what you were created for, then why would you give it up?"

_Talk in your mind boy, I will hear you. I will give it up because I was created so that if my creator failed his task, he could come back to complete it. He didn't fail, so I no longer had a purpose. He died of natural causes, and would not accept my assistance in returning to life. So I have been lying in that shop for several generations. It is a… lonely existence to say the least. I am glad to have some company at last. What, may I enquire, is the name of my savior?_

_My name is Harry Potter. _Harry was ready for a myriad of reactions. Hate, if he was a dark wizard. Awe, if he was a light wizard. But the one thing he was not prepared for was indifference.

_A good name. It is my pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter._

He didn't want to seem rude though, so he replied_ it's nice to meet you too, Armand. How old are you, Armand?_ It was a rather rude question to ask, but almost everyone knew his name these days.

_I was born in the year 1842._ Harry was shocked at how old the book was, but he decided not to say anything. Harry could feel that this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Nah, just kidding. He was scared, tired and just wanted to read some books. The idea that he was talking to a dead man's soul didn't sit too well with him. Then there was the matter that the thing was created by dark magic.

With that, he set the tiny book down and began to read the book on disguises. It took a bit of getting used to, reading a book like that, but it was very instructional. He decided to try a simple spell on the book first. Twirling his wand in a small pattern, he declared, "Abeo visio!" The book, which had looked like his head, suddenly changed. The nose became smaller and rounder, the eyes changed to a dark brown, and his eyebrows became bushy. It was a dramatic change, and Harry knew that this would be a useful spell. The only problem was that the scar remained. He would find a way around this later, he decided.

Harry flipped through the book and found a spell that would change his voice. Scribbled in the margin was a spell to make the book sound like him so he could test the spell. He tried to cast the spell but found that it was beyond his ability. Crestfallen, he decided to put the book away and try again later. The book, while useful, would have mostly things that were beyond him. He wanted a firmer grasp of the basics before he tried anything too complicated.

Harry decided to work on Potions next. Grabbing the book out of his trunk, he began to read. The book explained in simple terms, that the potions would have notes that explained why everything happened. Also, in the blank pages before the book began, there was a useful guide written by the previous owner. It had a list of reactions that would make the cauldron explode. Harry would have found this very useful in Snape's class, as he had never understood why things happened. Mostly, the class was just following directions.

Harry found that he was fairly good at potions when he understood what was going on, but he would never have the patience, or passion for potions required to become a master. He decided he wanted to become good at making potions he might require for everyday life, but not go much farther in brewing than that. It was interesting, but he couldn't ever see himself becoming a master. Harry went to sleep, and dreamed strange dreams. There were floating toilets, and Dumbledore's beard, and several house elves.

For the next three and a half weeks, Harry studied all of the books he had. He had a lot of help from Ollie, but the biggest (and most surprising) source of help was Armand. The talking book-soul had a lot of knowledge, and with Harry being the first person that he talked to in several years, imparted it eagerly. Harry felt that he was prepared for the entrance exams for both schools. He had become rather close with the talking book, and decided to take it with him for the exams. The tiny book had a string attached to it and was tied around Harry's neck. As if the book sensed Harry's nervousness, he said_ you'll do fine, Harry. Just remember everything we've shown you and you'll be fine._

The book was surprisingly warm against his chest, as he walked down Diagon Alley in his disguise. He had cast the Abeo Visio spell on himself giving him long brown hair, brown eyes, and a long nose. The hair covered his scar nicely. He entered the portkey shop and purchased one round trip to Egypt. The wheezing old clerk handed him a beat up pocket watch and charged him 2 galleons. Saying the uber-corny password "sphinx", he whirled off in cyclone of color.

Harry arrived in Cairo, the capital city. He walked across the large city until he came to a tall building that was a noticeable landmark. The instructions had told him to find this building and from there journey to a run down pub near the edge of the city. He arrived at the pub and walked inside immediately seeing several shady characters sitting at the bar. Harry saw the school representative sitting at a small table in the corner and walked over. The representative was tall and bald, with a very tan complexion and a hoop in one ear. The man had a frightening expression on his face. He was intimidating to say the least.

"Hello, I am Harry Rythamn. I'm here to take the qualifying exams for the Pyramid College." Ollivander and him had decided that it was best to keep the name simple. Harry wasn't exactly an unusual name, after all. They had decided to change his last name so that the schools wouldn't be influenced by his fame. Another reason was the fact that they didn't want Dumbledore to figure out where he was and try to _convince_ him to come back to Hogwarts. The other man silently got up and held his hand out to Harry.

After a moment's hesitation, Harry grabbed his hand. The other man murmured something under his breath, and they were whisked off, to the Pyramid College of Magick.


End file.
